


Muffle

by cemetery_driven



Series: daddy kink 'verse [7]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Bunk Sex, D/s, Daddy Kink, Kittenplay, M/M, Petplay, Vibrators, needy!gerard, thighsex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-26 23:55:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2671127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cemetery_driven/pseuds/cemetery_driven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a bus night, and Gerard isn't a fan of bus nights.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Muffle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gerardwaysgay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerardwaysgay/gifts).



> For Danny. This... has taken far too long and I am an asshole who keeps bouncing from one idea to the next idea and I need to stop having so many AUs.

Gerard was sweaty and gross and downright disgusting, but it wasn't a hotel night, and he didn't even bother trying to get to a bathroom sink in the backstage maze to try and get the gunk off himself. He kinda wished they'd still play high school gyms every now and again, at least those things had showers. Theaters and shit didn't, and neither did their bus, or the bus of anyone else they were touring with. He knew that they'd be overfull with other dudes and roadies and security guys looking to take a dump while they had five minutes with someone else watching their zone or whatever. He just couldn't be bothered, and had headed straight for the bus instead, making a beeline for his bunk and curling up as best he could in the tiny space.

 

Mikey had stuck his head in a little while back, demanding to know the exact location of his stupid fucking zombie coffee mug, and Gerard hadn't known and he was tired and his back ached so he _may_ have been a bit of an asshole when he'd said that. He could hear everyone doing their shit outside, the TV buzzing, the little faint twangs of Ray's practice guitar, not plugged in. He felt the bus start moving as he curled up properly, his back against the wall, facing out toward the aisle, curtain shut and the little button-clasp thing closed. 

 

Gerard fucking hated bus nights. He never slept much, the highways and the movement jerking him awake whenever they took an exit or slowed down for a drive-by town. He didn't even give a fuck that he was sweaty and sticky and disgusting, because that was kind of how he rolled half the time anyway. The little light always fell off it's stupid fucking hook, or ran outta battery halfway through a sentence in this really awesome horror novel Frank had lent him about gay serial killers in New Orleans. Sometimes it even smacked him in the head. His knees had to be at just the right angle or they hit the stupid little strip of wood between the flimsy foam mattress, rolling over was virtually impossible without his ass falling halfway out of the bed.

 

At least they'd had enough space on the bottom to not have to use the top bunks for anything but their fucking shit.

 

He felt like shit, probably looked like shit,  _definitely_ smelled like shit, and he'd have to buy more cigarettes at the next stop. It was infinitely easier to just curl up as best he could, and at least make a half-assed attempt at sleep. 

 

Apparently half-assed had been enough, because it was dead quiet when he woke up from a sleep he hadn't fully realized he'd been in. No TV, no stringy guitar noises, no demandy-pants Mikey and his stupid mug problems. It was just quiet, nothing but the faint hum of the driver's radio and the little whipping sound the wind made when they passed cars. 

 

The worst thing about bus nights was the unholy lack of Frank curled up next to him, mumbling curse words and gibberish in his sleep, one arm draped over Gerard's waist. Sometimes he'd come in and press in close for a little while, just til Gerard got to sleep, but there was no way they could spend the whole night together in the tiny little box. They both kicked too much, Gerard rolled over a  _lot_ , and they'd just end up falling out and getting shitty with the world if they tried.

 

Frank had been so close to him all night onstage too, and that almost made it worse. Like, he couldn't just drop to his knees and pull Frank's cock out and suck it down his throat in front of a few thousand people. They'd get arrested, for one. And that'd put a whole lotta shit at risk. But seeing Frank all sweaty, all fucking throwing himself around like some kind of fucking maniac armed with a guitar he almost broke every fucking night, it made Gerard so fucking happy. The sweat and heat and they were up there with their best fucking friends, and it made this need for contact and love and affection just well up in Gerard's stomach. 

 

He'd held Frank's hand when they walked back to the bus earlier, under the shield of their hoodies with their hands behind their backs so there weren't any stupid fucking TMZ articles the next morning. Frank had needed to go back and talk to his guitar tech though, check over shit because he thought he might've busted something Gerard didn't fully understand, and probably go see a med guy as well because his ankle felt sprained.

 

Gerard was an affectionate person though, and he ached for attention, for love, for  _Frank_ .

 

He pressed his face into the pillow, grumbling softly into the cotton and fluff, because it was irritating and frustrating and he doubted he'd get any more sleep. He wasn't gonna go poke Frank awake for that, Frank needed to sleep too.

 

He didn't even know where they were or what fucking time it was, and he was just... not feeling great in the slightest.

 

“Hey, sweetie, are you awake?”

 

Gerard rose up on one arm, careful not to smack his head on the low ceiling. “Yeah.”

 

“Can I come in, Gee?”

 

_Yes, please come in, I miss you, I need you, Frankie come in and don't leave ever._ “Yes, Daddy,” he murmured, quiet as he could, because he didn't want to wake everyone else up.

 

The little button-latch popped open and Frank slid the curtain across, his eyes red and sleepless. He had the gray bags under his eyes, that general feel of  _I'm so fucking tired, kill me_ written across his face. Except the devilish little smirk across his lips, that was a definite not-sleepy thing.

 

Frank eased himself into the small space on the bunk as best he could, tangling his legs in Gerard's, both their knees bent and it was awkward and totally graceless and Frank was swearing under his breath and Gerard whimpered softly when he caught Frank's knee to his balls.

 

“Shit, sorry, angelboy,” Frank murmured, pausing in his attempt to get his ass inside the confines of the tiny little space. “You okay?”

 

Gerard looked at him through his grimace, and nodded. “You didn't get me too hard. 'S alright, Daddy.”

 

“Okay, it's okay, I'm nearly in, I just gotta... can you scooch back anymore, sweetie?” 

 

Gerard moved back the less-than-half-inch between him and the wall the fake-wood interior cold against the small strip of skin where his shirt rode up and his underwear fell down. He slept in his underwear when he wasn't with Frank.

 

Frank made a sound of relief and achievement, and pulled the curtain back over and clicked it closed. 

 

“Hey there, pretty boy,” he said, his face a little flushed from the struggle, grin spread across his face. Gerard's insides just melted when he smiled like that.

 

“We can't sleep like this, Daddy,” Gerard whispered. “You know we can't, it's too small.”

 

Frank cocked an eyebrow. “Who said shit about sleeping, kitty?”

 

A shiver ran down Gerard's spine because fuck, he'd seen Frank sweaty and disgusting and full of nothing but pure, violent energy the entire night and  _yes please fuck me Daddy_ , but realistically, that was even more difficult than sharing a bunk for a night. “We can't fuck, Daddy, you know we can't, remember we even tried and it didn't-”

 

“Oh, but angelboy,” Frank murmured, leaning close do he could whisper in Gerard's ear, his breath hot and wet and sticky against his face. “I don't have to fuck you to make you come, do I?”

 

Gerard didn't respond with much but a low whine. “Daddy, I-”

 

Frank pressed a finger to his lips, shutting him up. “Shh. Just. Just listen to me, alright, babe?” 

 

Gerard nodded, and Frank reached slightly awkwardly into the pocket of his jeans. Gerard's eyes widened, but he kept his mouth bitten shut, because that was his  _favorite_ pocket vibrator that they fucking owned. The little black one, and yeah mostly girls used them because apparently it worked on them too, but fuck, it worked for Gerard. Thinking about it, about what Frank was going to do with it because  _what was he going to do to him_ was making his cock more than just twitch in his underwear.

 

Frank had that little fucking smirk on his face, that smirk that always meant he was up to something, that he had a plan and that was what was going to happen, no questions. 

 

When Frank grabbed the back of Gerard's head gently, and kissed him like nothing else existed, Gerard fucking melted. He was never really good at putting up a fight or listening to his head when Frank was on a mission, and apparently, that was what he was on. Gerard's cock just kind of took over, logic was out the window, and Frank's tongue was slick and teasing and his teeth were scraping hard across Gerard's bottom lip, just how he liked it. 

 

“Stay quiet, kittyboy,” Frank murmured, his lips barely moving, just a hum against Gerard's jaw. Gerard shuddered and tensed when he heard Frank click the tiny little vibrator on, and prayed that Ray couldn't hear them in the next bunk up. 

 

Gerard bit into his lip, eyes wide and doe-like, and nodded, just barely. Frank started to tug at his underwear, and it was awkward and difficult and Gerard nearly kicked him out the side of the bunk trying to shimmy them down to his ankles. 

 

“Stay fuckin' quiet, alright?” Frank hissed, his voice dangerous and it made Gerard ache a little. “You wake anyone up, you're not coming for two weeks, alright?”

 

Gerard whined, soft from the back of his throat, and wrapped his fists in Frank's shirt. He needed to be closer, needed the warmth and the smell of Frank and it was gross as hell but he liked it anyway, he craved it, needed the contact and the way that the world disappeared entirely as he buried his face in Frank's chest.

 

“I'll be good, Daddy, promise,” he whispered, his voice soft and almost innocent.

 

Frank pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head, and Gerard let out a tiny, wrecked little noise the moment the little black vibrator touched his cock. 

 

“Ah, shut it,” Frank tutted, and Gerard bit into his lip, his hands gripping tighter. Frank turned it up another notch, and Gerard's knees twitched. _Fuck_.

 

“Daddy, jesusfuck,” he whimpered, face pressed hard into Frank's chest, every movement of the vibrator against his cock threatening to drag a wrecked-out sound from the back of his throat whether he wanted it or not. “Please, Daddy, can I...”

 

“What, baby?” Frank asked, the hint of a chuckle in his voice. “You wanna come already? Jesus.”

 

Gerard shook his head, lip wedged between his teeth, trying to grind into Frank's hand as best he could because he  _needed_ friction. “Please, Daddy, am I allowed to... to...”

 

“Spit it out, little kitten,” Frank cooed, his words so calm, but also so teasing, almost. Taunting.

 

“PleasecanIfuckmyselfDaddy,” Gerard mumbled, then pressed his face back into Frank's chest, his whole face bright red. He didn't usually do that. Not unless Frank asked him to. Gerard never really asked for it, ever, and it was weird and awkward saying it and embarrassing.

 

“Ask again, baby,” Frank said, eyebrow raised. “Slower, so I can hear you right. Tell me what you want.”

 

“Please... can I... f-fuck myself, Daddy,” Gerard repeated, his voice shuddering and shaky. Frank let out a small laugh.

 

“How much do you want it, Gee?”

 

Gerard pressed his face into Frank's chest, his hands pulling more of the shirt into his fists. He really fucking wanted it, even though it made him turn bright red and hide whenever he asked, whenever he even thought about having his own fingers in his ass while Frank watched him do it. 

 

“Real bad, please, Daddy,” he whispered, barely-audible. “Wanna be... be a good, good kitty for you, please.”

 

“And what do I get, huh?” Frank asked, that devilish smirk back across his lips, and Gerard gritted his teeth and shoved his face hard into Frank's shirt when the vibrator went up another notch, to full-speed. It was fucking intense, he needed that little bit fucking more.

 

“I'll do anything,” Gerard spluttered. “Anything, promise, please, Daddy, you can fuck my ass, my throat, you can use me however you want just please please _please_ can I fuck myself and come for you-”

 

Frank moved, getting his arm up and sticking two fingers in Gerard's mouth, pressing down against his tongue, dragging his lips open. “Shut up and do it, then, and you're licking my fingers clean afterwards.”  


Gerard let out a mindless noise, and felt his entire body flush red when he let go of Frank's shirt with one hand, the other gathering the excess cotton and grasping it even tighter. He could feel Frank's eyes raking over him as he moved his hand back, over his hip, consciously avoiding his cock because he knew that'd warrant punishment, because that wasn't what he'd asked for. He was so fucking  _exposed_ and had he not had the tiny little black vibrator going full-speed on his cock while Frank jerked him off, he'd probably curl into a ball and hide. 

 

“Just one, angelboy,” Frank murmured, his eyes totally focused on Gerard's for a brief moment. “One, that's it. I'll know if you add more. You won't come for a month if you do that.”

 

Gerard's toes curled, and he let out a small huff of frustration, but nodded in agreement. His mouth fell open, this pretty, wet little soundless gasp, and Frank kissed him again, his teeth biting hard into his bottom lip. Gerard's hips twitched, just slightly, and frank could see the way his stomach muscles tensed under the soft layer of skin. 

 

“Come on, Gee,” he whispered, in between small open-mouthed kisses, because _fuck not tasting that sweet little mouth right now_. “Come for Daddy, right fucking now, and don't make a fucking sound-”

 

Gerard tensed up, his thighs trembling, and bit into Frank's lip, hard, barely-missing the lip ring with his sharp little teeth, and Frank felt the muffled whimper rumble in the back of his throat. He tasted blood, and not a small amount, it was full-on fucking metal and copper on his tongue.

 

“Little fucker,” he mumbled, as soon as Gerard let go, still shaking and drawing sweet little heavy breaths. “You're getting your ass fucking kicked for that, alright?” he said, switching the vibrator off and shoving it back in his pocket, sliding his jeans just-far-enough down his thighs to get his cock out.

 

Gerard whimpered when Frank pulled his legs forward that little bit, and wiped the sticky mess off on his ass. It was fucking gross, the way it started to dry and go tacky and cold and disgusting.

 

“Move your legs, kitty,” Frank murmured. Gerard was a fucking puddle of jelly, but moved when Frank's hands pushed his thighs that tiny bit apart. He watched, eyes wide, as Frank spat in his hand, followed the inked fingers as he spread spit all over his cock like some terrible, horrible fucking porno and it was desperate, it was gross, but it was also really fucking hot.

 

Frank slid his dick in between Gerard's thighs, and Gerard pulled his eyes away, focusing on Frank's face instead. He wasn't... wasn't very good with his thighs. Never had been. It was weird. Hot, yeah, because Frank's cock was hot and hard between his legs and he slid with that little bit of friction against his skin and it felt pretty fucking nice, but he just didn't want to stare at his own legs like that.

 

“I should do this when you're bad,” Frank whispered, mouthing along Gerard's jawline, one hand reaching up to tangle loosely in Gerard's hair, messing it up even more. “When I wanna come, but you're not allowed. I should just fuck your pretty little thighs, they almost feel like your ass... squeeze tighter, babe, please.”

 

Gerard swallowed, and tensed his legs up, and Frank bit his lip softly, wincing visibly when his teeth brushed where Gerard had drawn blood. 

 

“I know you don't think so, angelboy,” Frank rambled, his voice slightly off-rhythm as he focused on his cock moving in between Gerard's thighs. “But you're fucking perfect, and your legs, fuck, Gee. I am, y'know, I'm gonna do this when you're bad, when you're not allowed to come. I'll just fuckin' bend you over and you'll beg for me to fuck you, you'll feel me so fucking close to your cute little hole, but nah, nah, I'll just get off and come all over these pretty fuckin' thighs of yours, and you'll whine, you'll fucking _ache_.”

 

Gerard whimpered, pressing his eyes shut, pulling Frank closer so he could bury his face in Frank's neck. “Please, Daddy,” he breathed, and he wasn't even sure what he was asking for. 

 

Frank swallowed, one hand firmly on Gerard's hip, keeping him still, his hips moving just that little bit faster and Gerard knew that meant he was chasing it uphill. 

 

“Please, Daddy,” Gerard said again. “Please, come for your little fuckpet, please. Wanna feel you all hot and sticky in between my thighs, I know you love my thighs, Frankie, please.”

 

“Keep going, babyboy,” Frank mumbled through gritted teeth, his pace faster than before, and Gerard knew it was gonna start to chafe them both pretty soon, the friction was starting to pull and burn that little bit already. “Beg for me, come on, you know that gets me off, sweetie.”

 

Gerard licked his lips, tasting Frank's skin briefly, he tasted like sweat and stale cigarettes. “Please, Daddy, I really need it. Always need your cock, don't I? I'm your little whore, your little cumslut... wish you were coming in my throat, so I could taste you. Please, Daddy, mark up my pretty little thighs, make me your filthy little-”

 

Gerard was cut off by Frank's mouth, hot and wet and his tongue fucking everywhere, the low groan muffled by the kiss. His hips were twitching, his hand grabbing hard at Gerard's ass, and Gerard's thighs felt a mess.

 

Frank didn't let go of Gerard's hair, but his fingers loosened and he just stayed, so still, his breathing heavy and his eyes pressed shut, and Gerard just watched. He didn't know what else to do, really, and Frank looked really fucking good when he was just totally boneless and blissed-out with heavy eyes and post-orgasm sighs. It was probably Gerard's favorite thing in the world to look at, actually. The way his eyes twitched under his eyelids, his tongue darting out to wet his lips and trace over the lip ring, the rise-and-fall of his chest as he caught his breath again.

 

“You're sleeping in that,” he mumbled, without even opening his eyes, as he moved back just-slightly and Gerard felt the sticky-gross starting to cool between his thighs. “You're... you're not allowed to clean yourself up til we get to the hotel in the morning, alright?”

 

Gerard whined, because sleeping with not only his own jizz wiped off on his ass, but also a puddle of Frank's making his thighs stick together, wasn't exactly what he'd planned on doing. “But, Daddy-”

 

“No, shh, no,” Frank murmured, pressing a finger to Gerard's lips and opening his eyes to look at him, dead-serious. “If you're good and do that, Daddy'll... you can have my mouth, after the gig, alright?”

 

Gerard whined again, totally exasperated. 

 

“If you clean up, week's worth of nothing,” Frank continued. “You won't even... even get to blow me, I'll just fuckin' jack off into fuckin' tissues and make you watch.”

 

Gerard frowned, but nodded. He wasn't going to enjoy sleeping covered in come, he never did, but he'd probably kill a man for Frank's mouth, and he wasn't going to risk getting a week's worth of punishment for clean thighs. 

 

“Okay, Daddy,” he whispered.

 

“Good boy,” Frank said, pressing a small kiss to Gerard's forehead, and then to his mouth. “Daddy's gotta go back to my bunk, alright? You gonna be okay? You want water or anything?”

 

Gerard let a small yawn escape his mouth, and shook his head. “No, I'm okay. Just another kiss though?”

 

Frank smiled, his face soft, and pressed another kiss to Gerard's mouth, long and hard like the space between their two bunks was a trans-Atlantic flightpath. 

 

“I love you, angelboy,” he murmured, pressing another soft kiss to Gerard's nose and awkwardly pulling his jeans back up over his ass. “Get some sleep, alright?”

 

Gerard watched him unlatch the curtain, roll out awkwardly, narrowly avoiding smacking his head off the ceiling. “One more kiss.”

 

Frank sighed, still smiling, and leaned in to press another small peck to Gerard's mouth, before leaning back and pulling the curtain back across.

 

“Sleep, kitty,” he whispered, barely-audible above the rumble of the bus' engine now the curtain was open. “Love you.” 

 

“Love you too, Daddy,” Gerard murmured, and Frank clicked the curtain shut. Gerard listened, to the tiny little skippish footsteps and the sound of Frank's bunk curtain sliding open and shut, before nuzzling down into the pillow, and pressing his face into the little patch of Frank-smell.

%MCEPASTEBIN%


End file.
